An eerily dream-like memoir, and the first work of nonfiction by one of our most inventive novelists

Aurelia, Aurélia begins on a boat. The author, sixteen years old, is traveling to Europe. She has the confidence of a teenager cultivating her earliest obsessions—Woolf, Durrell, Bergman—sure of her maturity, sure of the life that awaits her. Soon she finds herself in a Greece far drearier than the Greece of fantasy, “climbing up and down the steep paths every morning with the real old women, looking for kindling.”

Kathryn Davis’s hypnotic new book is a meditation on the way imagination shapes life and how life, as it moves forward, shapes imagination. At its center is the death of her husband, Eric. The book unfolds as a study of their marriage, its deep joys and stinging frustrations; it is also a book about time, the inexorable events that determine beginnings and endings.